


Hellhound

by DiseasedBreeze



Category: Batman (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Cannibalism Mentions, Feral, Hell, Hellhound AU, Knotting, M/M, Mindbreak, angel demon au, fallen angel AU, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiseasedBreeze/pseuds/DiseasedBreeze
Summary: Life is tough here and hell and as the youngest hellhound in the pack Jason has a lot to prove if he wants to survive.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Slade Wilson/Dick Grayson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	Hellhound

The hellhound pack stalk across the open ash plain.

The craggy volcanic rock tore and the heat lurked underfoot to scorch unwary feet. Every step made the packed ash shift and expose the still hot embers lurking under it.

The hellhound Alpha leads the pack, strong, ruthless and confident, each step the result of a thousand plans and calculations needed to pick a successful path through the volcanic plain. If the path chosen isn’t correct the ash will crumble into a new volcanic fissure, sending the pack tumbling into the fiery abyss and their destruction. If the pack ever stops moving the heat under the ash will cook them to ashes just the same.

The was the first lesson Jason Todd learnt in hell; a hellhound must always be hunting. In life they’d been hunters who let the hunt consume them, now in Hell they were hunters forever.

He follows at the rear of the pack. The feet of the other hellhounds had stripped the protective surface layers of ash away, leaving his feet to fall in their footprints where the embers glowed hotter. He doesn’t complain even though his feet are burning with every step. He was lucky to have even this low position in the pack, if the hellhound Alpha hadn’t taken a liking to him he wouldn’t have even the meagre safety of a path through the ashes and last share of the souls they’d hunted.

He kept one eye on the backs of the pack in front of him, waiting for the moment they turned on him and he’d have to run. He kept the other eye on the plains around them, looking for spreading cracks of new fissures that might cut him off from the pack or other hellhounds; either other packs that would attack the back first or the lone stragglers that would try to steal their kills. Not too long ago that had been him, snatching up what scraps he could and running before the pack could catch him and rip him apart. To run on the ash plains was to tempt fate; who would fall first the pursuer or the pursued? Sometimes it was safer to let the scavenger go. Sometimes, well, it was a dog eat dog world.

The hellhound Alpha stops moving forwards, making a sweeping motion like a soldier surrounding a perimeter. He’s found the closest thing to solid ground there can be in his plain, a piece of volcanic rock belched up by the flames underneath currently stable enough to be stood on. It wouldn’t last long enough to sleep, the constant pull of lava under the ash would wear away its foundations and it would fall back into it. It was a mistake to think of it as a place to rest. These patches of solid ground were for the pack to reinforce its pecking order. Any straggler that fell behind, any sentry that missed the danger, any Alpha that failed to find the path, this was where the pack decided their fate. Even a single injured packmate weakened the pack and made it harder for them to fight off other packs. Could they drive off the weakest link without getting hurt? Does getting hurt make them the new weakest link? There’s no question here of who the weakest link is in this pack.

It’s him.

Time to be judged.

The hellhound Alpha’s one eye focuses on him. He steps forwards. The other hellhounds close in behind him watching closely. Jason knows what’s going to happen, he was the lowest rank of the pack. He wasn’t here for his combat skills. He was here because the Alpha wanted him.

He drops to his knees on the craggy rock and looks up at him.

The hellhound Alpha looks down at him with a satisfied smirk that raised his lip enough to show off a hint of fang. The rest of the pack watches as the Alpha hooks his fingers into his belt. He reaches out a hand and buries it in Jason’s hair. He squeezes tight enough for his claws to threaten to puncture Jason’s skull and shoves him forwards. The hellhound Alpha’s bulge rubs against his face.

Part of Jason is still aware that if he had been alive he would have fought this. Being a bitch for someone who’d been a monster before he’d gone to hell was something he’d thought he’d die rather than face. Now he’s grateful for the chance to open his mouth and suck the Alpha’s cock. He’s grateful there’s something, anything he can do to not be alone out here.

The Alpha’s cock is thick and musky and he works quickly to get it to full hardness. The sooner the Alpha’s satisfied the sooner he’s proved his worth to the pack. There were plenty of other lone wolves out there hungry for the protection of a pack. He can’t afford the Alpha thinking one of them might give him a better blowjob. He just prays it’s enough to buy his place here for just a little bit longer. He licks eagerly until the Alpha pulls hard on his hair and he’s forced to stop. The Alpha runs his hand over his cock as if grading his performance before he makes a short growl. Jason knows what that means. He settles down on all fours, still aware of how the rest of the pack is watching him. Were any of them the Alpha’s bitch before him? Were those hostile staring eyes because they wanted the Alpha’s position of power over him?

It’s almost enough to distract him from the Alpha’s hands on his hips but nothing could distract him from the feeling of being mounted. He howls with pain as the cock spears into him and the pack picks up the howl and carries it on. The Alpha howls last, strongest and longest even as he’s thrusting.

Jason’s knees are cut open as they’re shoved against the craggy black rock. He gasps and tries not to scream. He’s being watched after all. No matter how much this hurts if he shows he’s weak they might leave him here, alone and fucked full of cum on this desolate rock, until another hellhound finds him or the ground collapses underneath his feet. He has to show he’s tough enough to take it. He has to show he’s useful enough to keep around. Jason forces himself to rock back against the thrusts, to ignore the watching eyes, to show the Alpha that letting him join the pack wasn’t a mistake.

He can hear the Alpha pant as he thrusts in. This position left him vulnerable and the Alpha wouldn’t have put himself in it if he wasn’t confident in his ability to keep the pack in line. Being able to have the power, the _time_ to spend fucking was his proof he was the top dog here and Jason…well…he was the bottom.

The hellhound Alpha’s teeth find Jason’s throat, and he knows if the Alpha did want to tear it out and eat his corpse Jason wouldn’t be able to stop him. That his teeth could come so close without killing him was proof of that.

In this godforsaken place where even angels feared to tread the Alpha Hellhound was the king of your hell.

“Jason.” It takes him a while to realize the voice isn’t in his head. “Jason!”

For the first time in what feels like years he dares to do what no hellhound should ever do. He takes his eyes off the plains and looks up.

He’d forgotten what the ceiling looked like, it was craggy black rock and ashes too just like the rest of this hell, but that doesn’t matter. He’s seeing an angel, his halo dim in the smoky light. His wings are cream and tan, like an owl or a hawk, and slowly beating to keep himself aloft. His bare feet don’t touch the ground and the silk robe that is so blue it looks black falls around the supple curves of his body like water.

“Gray…son.” He croaks. It’s been so long since he’s last spoken rather than growl or snarl. The word tastes of ashes in his mouth.

“Father’s forgiven you, you can go home.” The angel says in a voice like a choir. “Take my hand.”

He stretches it down towards him and Jason takes it.

And pulls him down.

The angel hits the ground hard, sending a shockwave rippling through the ash. The pack leaps on him as one, two each grab each wing and kneel on it to keep their quarry from flying free. The second in command slams the celestial’s head into the ash, accepting the burns of the halo on her hands for the pleasure of grinding the face of the enemy into the dust.

The hellhound Alpha growls his satisfaction and Jason feels the knot leave his ass.

“Brother, help me! You can stop them, you can still…!” Jason sees the angel’s face crease in pain and his wings go stiff as the Alpha’s cock slides into him. Already the light of heaven is leeching from his skin as the corruption of hell sinks into him.

Like it had sunk into Jason himself, when he’d been cast from Heaven’s light.

The alpha hellhound settles into a full mount, his hips snapping flush with the angelic body underneath him. He looks down on the youngest hellhound, his one eye seeming to dare him to free the angel he’d just doomed to hell. Jason meets that eye and rather than rise to the challenge, he looks away first and shows the Alpha he submits to him. He tries not to hear the screams as the angel he’d once called brother is violated inches from him. Instead he waits patiently while they tear the wings from his shoulders and the shed feathers turn to ash. When the screaming finally stops and what had once been an angel falls still and shivering on the rock he dares to look up.

There’s barely a scrap of silk left on the rock, and certainly none left covering what had once been his father’s favorite son. The light has left his skin, leaving only bruises, cuts and smears of cum. His halo has broken into fading, dying, shards of light that will soon go out entirely.

The Alpha hellhound rises and as he pulls out his cum leaks from the angel’s abused ass and puddles under the former angel’s shaking thighs. Jason doesn’t look his brother’s face; even that much mercy was a weakness to be driven out. The rest of the pack is rising too, the meat of the angel’s wings had been slim but the kind of delicacy a hellhound only saw once in a millennium. They haven’t spared a scrap of it for their newest member but neither do they look at him with hostility in their eyes as they move past him. They know who bought them this rare bounty and wasn't any of them.

The Alpha hellhound puts a hand on his shoulder, moves it up to briefly caress his cheek, before resting it on top of his head once again.

“Good work.” The alpha growls to him.

Jason feels the first true joy he’s felt in hell as he hurries to follow the pack without a look behind him. He was a good hellhound. He’d bought the pack an angel quarry. He had worth. He deserved his place in the pack.

He wouldn’t be abandoned again.

At least, not right now.

And down here, right now was all that mattered.


End file.
